The slap came the second they got inside the elevator.
Jude lunged forward but Father pointed a finger at him, warning him not to make a move.
"Get him out here," he ordered to the guards disguised as servants.
Jude raged with so much fury even I feared him. When two men tried to restrain him, he roared in anger. Father froze as well as I did at the sight of him losing his carefully held control for the first time. While I had anchored myself through my rage and fear, he was completely overcome by it.
He easily fought them off, kicking one in the gut and throwing the other like a rag doll over the table, breaking the glass table at the impact. When they tried to get up, he threw a chair at them and with a warning glare, the rest of them cowered.
Father reached for me, gripping my hair, his free hand holding the knife against the back of my neck.
"Don't. You. Dare," my brother hissed.
Father scoffed and dug the tip of the knife into my nape, dragging it up the edge of my skull. I gritted my teeth as blood trickled down my back. Jude's eyes widened, pure rage filling them.
"Get the fuck away from her!"
Before he could get to me, Father shoved me to the floor and managed to sneak in a hard stomp on my gut. I didn't make a sound. Jude snarled, raising his fist. I broke my silence.
"Jude, stop!" I yelled out.
He stilled, his fist stopping midair while our father merely stood there. His face was expressionless but I knew, if we were alone, he would have brought me to the edge of death already.
Jude turned to me, his fist shaking.
"Don't," I said. "For your sake."
He huffed out a harsh breath, lowering his fist and swiping a hand over his hair, his eyes firmly on our father. His shoulders leveled, loosening. His face softened, calming. His eyes became blank, emptying. And with one steadying breath, he grasped the controls of his rage.
"I assume you're done, then?" Father asked with an air of non-chalance. "Now, I want you both to understand me very clearly." He shifted his gaze between us. "Their lives are in your hands. If you ever go near them, if you make any sort of contact with them, if I even hear either of you speak of them, I will end them and we shall face each other at war. Do you understand?"
"We understand," Jude said through gritted teeth, resigning to our fate. "But don't think I won't know if you tried to harm them. One wrong move and I will destroy everything. Starting with you," he said, his voice cool but the threat in his words was evident.
He stepped around him and held out his hand for me. I took it, letting him pull me up and keeping my head down. He bent low, reaching into my boot and taking out the knife tucked against my ankle.
I didn't turn. I simply kept holding his hand as he slit the throat of the dying man I had unleashed myself unto. My brother was kind enough to take what life remained in my behalf.
He took out a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his hands clean and handing it to me before turning to face our Father.
"I'll let this pass only because she's here. The next time you dare to lay a finger on her, I'll hurt you in ways even you could never imagine and I won't show you even one drip of mercy, Father," he hissed, looping arms together. "We're leaving. Thank you for lunch."
He turned, exiting the dining room. I kept my head raised as we passed the guards. One of them stepped forward, holding out my jacket and gloves. Jude wordlessly took them without pausing in his step and we headed for the elevator in silence.
Ben was standing out in foyer and he had a pitying look in his eyes that he couldn't hide even with the mask of indifference he made mastered.
I caught my reflection through the mirrors surrounding the interior of the lift and I quickly fixed my appearance. I stripped off my blouse, the silk material sodden by blood, and settled on the camisole I had underneath.
I wiped away the rest of the blood before letting Jude put the jacket on me while I slipped my gloves back on. The cut on the back of my head was still bleeding and I tossed my hair over my shoulders to cover it. Jude took out a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and handed it to me. By the time we arrived at the lobby, I was perfect again. At least nearly.
The walk was agonizing. It seemed like the doors were so far and everyone's eyes followed every step we took. I kept my head up, my posture straight, ignoring the pain on my gut as a result of that one kick and hoping that the blood trickling down my back couldn't be seen.
"Angel," I heard Rick's voice from behind when we got out of the building.
My breathing halted as I froze in my steps. Jude grasped my elbow, marching towards my bike in haste.
"Wait, Jude, please," I protested.
"You can't," he bit out in a low voice. "If you care about him, you can't be near him."
"Let me tell him," I pleaded. "I need to make him understand."
"No. We have to go. Benjamin, give me your keys," he ordered and Ben took it out of his pocket, handing it to him.
"Angel."
His voice was nearer and I could just feel him standing behind us as we stopped by outside the SUV.
"Angel."
He took my arm, turning me to face him. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth.
Let him go. He'll get hurt.
"I'm sorry for blowing up like that. I-"
"Enough, Rick!" Jude cut in, his anger coming back. "You've done enough. Please, just stop."
He pushed me through the open door and I clambered into the passenger seat. Jude rounded up to the driver's side and I covered my ears with my palms when Rick kept calling out my name while Ben blocked the door. I started kicking at the dashboard, telling Jude to fucking hurry.
Turn it off. Turn it off. Turn it off.
As Jude sped through the traffic, I let out a scream.
* * *
It was my parents' 30th wedding anniversary, currently dubbed as the social event of the year, held at the two-tiered grand ballroom of the historic Waldorf-Astoria with no less than five hundred guests in attendance.
From Mother's side, my grandparents, Duke William and Duchess Clemence, and practically every significant member of the European Nobility along with the royal families and the prime ministers had come. From Father's side, every council member of the Lastor family were in attendance, along their heirs and the Hagen aides who served them.
The rest of the guest list was filled with the richest and most powerful men and women in the world, from world leaders to industry giants. If someone dared to bomb this place and managed to kill everyone in the building, the economy would collapse and within a week, the Free World would be in chaos. So naturally, I was pissed drunk and high out of my goddamn mind in a desperate attempt to prevent a panic attack.
Andre, my dashing date, had his cock in my mother's hand, jacking him off under the table as we ate. It was impressive, really, considering he was engaged in a discussion with the men at our table regarding foreign policy and the stock market. I would have applauded him if it wasn't so disgusting.
"Can I go now?" I whispered to Jude as he sat beside me.
He glanced at his watch for a moment. "It's only an hour since we arrived. At least wait till dinner's over."
I rolled my eyes. "Whatever," I muttered, emptying my wine glass before taking out my phone to text Andrea.
Kill me now.
LOL wer u @
Parents' anniversary party.
told u 2 bail dumbass
I'll pay you $1 million to come and pull the fire alarm.
tempting but can't im in nola remember?
Right. Fuck this shit. What's up?
pre-gaming 4 d show wanna cum?
I snorted. Security's tight. Gotta wait after dinner to sneak out.
suckz 2 b u
Fuck you
Hahahahahahahaha luv u kbyeeee
call me if ur otw xxx
I sighed, stuffing my phone back inside the clutch just as they were wheeling in the absurdly gigantic cake, embellished with strings of pearls.
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, staring at the damn thing in disbelief.
Father stood and Mother followed suit, inconspicuously slipping her hand out of Andre's pants. I glanced at him as he zipped himself up and he flashed me a boyish grin accompanied by a wink. I returned it with a sarcastic smile and a roll of my eyes.
Father was slicing the cake with the Lastor family's ceremonial longsword, the pommel bearing our family's crest and the golden grip glimmering with precious gems. The blade was four feet long, the family's motto, FLECTERE SI NEQUEO SUPEROS, ACHERONTA MOVEBO, carved in the middle of the blade in cursive.
According to the history lessons Gramps used to give me regarding our family heritage, the sword had been passed down from one Head of the Family to another, dating back to the 16th century, which was utter bullshit if you ask me. But still, everyone in the family heralded it as a sacred object and was only used in significant familial events. Even then, the only person allowed to wield it was the family patriarch. Fucking traditions, man.
Father started giving a long winding speech about his bullshit love and devotion to my mother while she feigned to tear up as she stared lovingly at him, as if she had any ounce of affection for the man. I was too wasted to actually hold a straight face.
"This is so fucking hilarious," I muttered to myself, snickering.
"Be quiet," Jude chided. "The family might hear you."
"What are they gonna do? Disown me?" I snorted, filling my glass with wine. "I welcome it."
He took my glass, setting it out of my reach. "I'm serious," he whispered, glancing around. "Everyone's watching us."
"You mean you," I said, poking his cheek. "I'm just the spare, you're the true heir. I don't have to impress anyone."
He glared at me. "You're my right hand. You look bad, I look bad."
I rolled my eyes, holding up my hands. "Fine, fine. I'll be good."
"You're drunk."
I scoffed. "Barely."
He sighed. "Just don't drink anymore."
"Aye, aye, captain," I said, mock saluting him.
He shook his head. "You're ridiculous."
"This whole fucking party is," I said, giggling.
"Before we serve everyone their cake, we have a bit of a surprise for you," Father was saying.
"Oh, goody," I muttered under my breath.
"Andre, I give you the floor," he went on, gesturing at Andre.
"You ready?" Andre whispered to me, taking my hand.
I frowned. "What?"
"For the proposal," he said before standing.
"The fucking what?"
"Excuse me?" Jude blurted out.
A waiter handed him a microphone and a group of photographers came to our side. When Andre dropped on one knee, I felt bile rise up my throat.
"What the fuck?"
I glanced at Jude who seemed to be just as stunned as I was.
"Angel, my love," Andre began, absolutely horrifying me. "I have adored you ever since I met you. You are the best part of my day and I feel so blessed to have had the privilege of knowing you. The only thing I could ask for is for you to be mine as I am yours. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
He reached into his jacket pocket, producing a small black velvet box. When he opened it, revealing a ring draped in glittering diamonds, gasps and unintelligble mutterings filled the entire room while the photographers went crazy as they pushed each other to get the best angle.
I couldn't think. I could hardly breathe. It was as if the rug had been pulled from underneath me and the world was spinning, leaving me reeling. I was going to be sick.
I looked at my brother and found him pale as he stared dumbly at the ring.
"Jude, what do I do?" I whispered, panicking.
He looked at me, his face a picture of confusion. When he looked at our father, standing across the table with a daring look in his eyes, his wrath surfaced.
"Say yes so we can leave," he hissed in a low voice.
Swallowing hard, I looked down at Andre and forced myself to smile as the panic was replaced by grief.
"Yes."
Deafening applause erupted and Andre jumped to his feet, taking me with him as he lifted me up in the air and spun me around before setting me back to my feet while I just stood there, unable to hold back my tears as everything registered and all I could do was fucking cry.
"I thought you knew," he whispered in my ear. "They told me you knew."
I shook my head, a sob escaping me as my knees buckled. He cursed, catching me and holding me to him.
"I'm so sorry," he said, managing to sound sincere. "I have to kiss you now."
He drew back, holding the side of my face and kissing me. Disgusted, I quickly pulled away, just barely managing not to throw up.
He took my hand, slipping the ring on my finger. The heavy weight felt like concrete dragging and drowning me. I immediately turned to Jude as he stood behind me and he wrapped his arms around me.
"I need you to keep it together," he murmured, holding me tightly. "You can't fall apart. Not yet. Don't give Father the satisfaction. Turn it off. Turn everything off."
I nodded, forcibly ceasing my tears and burying the grief filling my chest. And with every bit of strength that I could muster, I shut myself down and stopped feeling. Jude pulled back, assessing me. I brought out the best smile I had, my cheeks lifting as I embodied the overjoyed bride-to-be I was supposed to be.
Mother called for the cake to be served along with the champagne. Mattias and Princess Elise Gustav, Andre's parents, came over and kissed my cheeks, welcoming me to their family.
I saw Jude going to the band and telling them something before slipping them a bill. A moment later, they started playing lively music and the lights dimmed, distracting the guests. Jude hurriedly came back to me and I willed him to walk faster as Father started approaching me. He extended his hand and I reached for it, managing to grasp it, but before we could walk away, Father grabbed my arm, stilling me. Furious, Jude shoved him back and stood between us.
"Let her go. You've punished her enough already."
Father chuckled, closing the space between them and embracing my brother.
"You think this is her punishment?" he said, glancing at me over Jude's shoulder. "This is yours, my boy. I have yet to decide hers."
He pulled back, a joyous smile plastered on his lips, but it could hardly hide the menace in his eyes.
"Congratulations, darling," he directed to me, kissing my forehead. "You've just made Andre the envy of every man in this room."
My breathing faltered, my guise falling away as his proximity made everything I had barely buried surface. Jude dragged me away, everyone in his path dispersing as the savagery of his wrath became exposed, striking fear upon those he passed.
"Jude," I called as he stormed through the double doors. "Jude, you're hurting me."
He didn't stop. He just kept marching down the corridor, leaving me stumbling after him as my shoes slipped off my feet one by one.
"Jude, let go," I said, pulling at my arm. "Jude, it hurts!"
He halted, whirling around to face me. I backed away at the sight of the feral snarl on his face. He was almost wild, looking like a rabid predator on a war path. I'd never seen him so wholly before. He was always guarded, constantly keeping himself in control but now, he had no sense of control. He had become overrun by his emotions and it was terrifying, how every part of him reminded me of our father.
"Calm down," I whispered.
"Calm down?!" he roared, making me flinch away. "He's playing with your life to punish me! He filled an entire fucking room with an audience to make sure I wouldn't be able to do anything! This, all of this, was just his sick way of exerting his power and to show us we can never win against him! He'll always own us, Gel! Always!"
His chest heaved as he breathed harshly, his wrath slipping away as his anguish amplified. Tentatively, I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as I stood on the tips of my toes.
"We're okay," I soothed, bearing the pain of his arms coming around me in a crushing embrace. "We're okay."
He let out a breath, his body relaxing as his arms loosened.
"We're okay."
I sighed in relief. "You scared the shit outta me."
"I'm sorry I let him do that to you," he whispered. "You're always the one who gets hurt."
"Don't blame yourself for anything. I was always going to marry Andre," I assured him.
He shook his head in dismay. "You should be with Rick," he said. "He makes you happy and you deserve that. Not this."
I gritted my teeth as grief clawed at chest for being reminded of him.
"Maybe in another life, yeah?"
"If I could give you that life, little Angel, I would."
"Ifs and maybes," I said, forcing a laugh. "How pitiful have we become?"
* * *
I leaned against the headboard, swigging a bottle of Absolut with a joint between my fingers while Chan laid between my parted legs as Andrea rode his cock. His mouth was on the inside of my thigh, breathing heavily and nipping at the skin.
"Princess," he grunted out, raising his gaze. "Give me your pussy."
"Nah, give it here," Andrea chimed in.
I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on them, but the effects of alcohol and a shitload of coke tampered with my senses. Andrea leaned forward, continuing to rock against Chan while he reached for my hips, roughly pulling me onto his face.
I felt him grip the waistband of my underwear and with a yank, he tore the flimsy cloth off me and buried his mouth into my pussy. Andrea started sucking on my breast, yanking at my arm and guiding it to her ass. She took my fingers, rubbing them against her taint before pushing them into the tight hole and burying them knuckles deep. She bucked wildly and moaned loudly while Chan gifted her with hastened thrusts that matched the pace of his tongue lapping at my pussy.
Andrea came fast and hard, falling against me. I slipped my fingers out of her and bent over to the bedside table. Various drugs littered the surface, every kind and purity offered. I took a pill of ecstasy from the large bowl before sniffing a line of coke. The powder stung as it entered my sensitive nostrils. It was so pure it hurt. But I've learned to take the pain with the pleasure. It was all about the pleasure.
As I took another hit, I felt Chan sink his cock into me from behind. At every thrust he made, I waited. Yearned. Begged. It never came. The relief.
I've been desperately seeking relief from this. All this fucking pain. I couldn't live with it anymore. It was too much. Drowning me under its relentless current. Driving me barking mad. I understood I wasn't going to be able to dismiss my emotions just as easily before. But I had to try. I had to find that switch even in the dark.
I've tried. Every night. Every day. I tried to forget. Tried to let him go. I couldn't. He was inside me. I couldn't shake him off and the more I tried, the harder it became. Because trying to forget about that asshole only made me think of him and it would hurt. Thinking of him hurt because it was over and it would piss me off. We didn't even get to start anything and it was over. It wasn't fucking fair.
"Princess, shit, chill out," I heard Chan mutter.
I realized he had stopped fucking me and Andrea was flustering about. And for some reason, I was crying. Hard.
I couldn't breathe through the wretched sobs tearing out of my throat. I felt them touch me and I screamed, clawing at my skin to rid myself of their touch. They kept telling me they weren't going to hurt me but everything hurt.
"Shower! Shower!" Andrea was shrieking. "Take her to the shower!"
A blanket was thrown over me and then I felt myself being lifted. I continued to scream and cry, hitting and kicking. When I was dropped on the cold hard floor and freezing jets of water rained down on me, I seized.
I don't know how long I just laid there, staring into nothingness, numb and oblivious to the world around me. Yet, even as the wretched darkness consumed me, he continued to haunt me. In my high and drunken state, I accepted for the first time, I was ruined. Frederick Richardson fucking ruined me.